


A Dangerous Method

by Renai_chan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AvengerKink Fill, Godparent/Godchild Sexual Relations, M/M, Mentions Of Infidelity, Multi, Parent/Child Incest, Step-Parent/Step-Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:15:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glimpses into the relationship of Steve and Howard...</p><p>...and later on Steve, Howard and Tony's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dangerous Method

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/15292.html?thread=33184956#t33184956
> 
> _So Steve was never stuck in the ice for 70 years. He either never went down or was recovered and defrosted by Howard, so he grew up with Howard and his family, even being named godfather to Tony_
> 
> _After Maria dies, Steve and Howard get together to raise Tony as his parents. Then teenage!Tony and his hormones suddenly develop *feelings* for his parents. Steve and Howard find out about it and they too realize they also have these feelings then--BOOM--angst!_
> 
> _And then they get together and the angst is gone and it's all schmoopy lovefests and roses and puppies and rainbows._
> 
> _I love Steve/Howard and Steve/Tony and have a not-so-secret-anymore Howard/Tony kink, so why not all three of them together?_
> 
> _No non-con please._
> 
> So yeah. I have a Howard/Tony thing too, so I'm damn glad to see I'm not the only one. (Please see [this](http://renai-chan.tumblr.com/post/55825028797/my-pornstache-src-errrr-this-art-fuels) for inspiration. It's not Tony/Howard, but it's damn close enough ;D)
> 
> I've had this for so long in my hard drive but I've just finally managed to finish it. Unbeta'd so forgive errors and I think Steve is a _bit_ OOC (he seems WAY TOO CALM about the incest part of the story, but I refuse to change anything, so I claim artistic license and say the scenes are not from his POV so they don't show what he thinks and why he thinks the way he does. He has his reasons.).
> 
> This isn't a happy story, but it's not completely dark either. Starts off at the end of Captain America (but I fudged the timelines a bit. Captain America takes place in the Soviet War, not in World War II. The timeline doesn't play a significant factor, but I wanted to decrease the age gap between Tony and Howard & Steve) and ends at the end of Iron Man 1.

I.

 

Howard Stark was twenty five when Steve Rogers crashed into the Arctic at the height of the Soviet war in Afghanistan.

 

Peggy choked as she repeatedly called out his name into the receiver that only buzzed with static. Phillips discreetly blinked back tears he would have shed if he had not served in the army for the past thirty-six years. The Howling Commandos were stricken with shock and grief from the fall of their valiant leader. And Howard…

 

Howard was broken.

 

II.

 

Maria Collins Carbonell was beautiful, intelligent and charismatic. She was a well-known socialite included in many circles of friends and had a line of suitors that could circle three New York blocks. She was a budding fashion designer, a darling of the media and was well-connected with many important names in the industry.

 

But more importantly, she was convenient.

 

Her family was from old money—money that was slowly running out. Her father, a wise man, was able to keep the state of their diminishing fortune under wraps and fortunately was wise enough to know that money, whether old or new, was still money, and despite his disdain for Walter Stark, a self-made man and all-around bastard, he managed to scrounge up enough pull to marry off his daughter to Walter’s son, Howard.

 

It was a well-kept secret that Walter’s boy had certain… _proclivities_ , but Lt. Carbonell was not to be deterred. It only made his case for Walter that much more convincing.

 

And so Maria was convenient for her father.

 

And Maria was convenient for Walter.

 

And Maria was married to Howard Stark, twenty six.

 

III.

 

Anthony Stark was two when Steve Rogers was found in the Arctic.

 

Maria Stark welcomed him into her home, pronounced him honorary godfather to Tony and gave him his own suite in the East Wing of the mansion. She encouraged his presence at breakfast, bestowed him with all the privileges of a guest of the Stark household and treated him as a close, personal friend. She introduced him to society, reintroduced him to a world four years ahead of his time, secured him reasonable work, opened him a bank account, shared with him gossip, asked for his advice, gave advice of her own and made sure he was very much a part of the Stark family as one could possibly be.

 

Howard Stark, twenty nine, sank to his knees and gave Steve his first blow job in four years.

 

IV.

 

Howard Stark had just turned thirty when Maria died.

 

They were coming home from a night of drinking and rubbing elbows with the crème de la crème of society at a party thrown by Obadiah Stane, Howard’s vice president, held in honor of Howard’s thirtieth birthday. It was as dull and as boring for him as it was exciting for everyone else and the only highlight of the event was when Howard managed to convince Steve to steal away to the coat room and suck him off spectacularly. After that, the night was considerably more enjoyable.

 

When the truck hit, Howard's first thought was 'Damn. I haven't finished the schematics for the prototype jet yet.' When he learned of Maria's death a day later, guilt ate at him--guilt not for their loveless marriage or his affair with Steve, but guilt at the fact that he felt he should be more grieved that she was gone.

 

Steve stood by Howard, carrying Tony in his arms, as they lowered her casket into the ground, squeezing Howard's shoulder in comfort; Howard could only think of Steve squeezing something else.

 

It hadn't taken an hour before they were back at home and Steve was fucking the life out of him.

 

V.

 

“Baby, you’re getting too old for me to keep feeding you,” Steve mused as he held up a spoon to five-year old Tony’s mouth. The little imp giggled but opened his mouth obediently, his feet swinging happily between the legs of the breakfast nook stool. Jarvis set down a second plate of breakfast, loaded with bacon, eggs and toast, in front of Steve, which the younger man happily tucked into, before turning to the coffee maker and tending to two cups of coffee. Steve didn’t bother checking the clock on the wall to know that Howard was about to come down in a few more moments; Jarvis was more reliable when it came to Howard’s activities than any piece of technology Steve had seen.

 

“I like you feeding me,” Tony explained after he had finished chewing and swallowing the eggs down. He opened his mouth wide once more and made a small “Ah!” sound. Steve rolled his eyes fondly and deposited another spoonful of eggs in his mouth. He was rewarded with a happy kiss on the cheek for his effort.

 

Another kiss suddenly found its way to his other cheek and Steve’s smile widened. His arm shot out and wrapped itself around a waist, dragging a body onto his lap. There, he proceeded to kiss a pliant pair of lips deeply.

 

When they pulled apart, Howard gave him a feigned scowl.

 

“You couldn’t have waited until after coffee before assaulting me?” he asked snidely. “I still have morning breath, you know.” Steve laughed.

 

“I love your morning breath,” he teased and made for another kiss which Howard ducked out of. Jarvis was waiting just beyond Steve’s reach, presenting Howard a cup of coffee. The scientist groaned in relief as he gulped down several long swallows of the piping hot liquid (his mouth immune to the scald) and practically moaned:

 

“God, thank you, Jarvis! I could kiss you.” Steve pouted terribly.

 

“You’d kiss Jarvis, but not me?” he whined. Howard smirked and sat down opposite his lover and son.

 

“Jarvis greets me with coffee,” was his only answer.

 

“May I remind you exactly _what_ I greet you with every morning _and_ evening?” Steve asked, quirking an eyebrow. Howard’s smirk turned positively filthy.

 

“Boys, please. I would not appreciate you impressing upon Master Tony,” Jarvis reprimanded dryly. “He is much too young to hear of such matters.” Steve ducked his head with a blush and made a soft murmur of apology. Howard did no such thing but made no more comment on the matter as he settled into the morning paper.

 

He had two more cups of coffee after that while waiting for Tony and Steve to finish with their breakfast, and when Tony hopped off his stool and skipped around the island to Howard, he picked him up and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

 

“Have a nice day at school, sweetheart,” he murmured. Tony smiled brightly and hugged him before jumping down and tugging Steve out the door with no more than a ‘bye, bye, daddy.’

 

“And no blowing up anything during arts and crafts!” Howard suddenly thought to yell just as the door slammed closed.

 

VI.

 

It was dark and he couldn’t move and his head hurt from when he was thrown into the van after he was grabbed. School had just ended and he had just stepped onto the curb, heading toward the car Steve was waiting in to take him home, when the van cut in front of his path and he was pulled inside. It had jerked and jolted as it navigated the streets at insane speeds Tony knew couldn’t be within the speed limits of the city.

 

When he was taken out of the vehicle several hours later, blindfolded and bound, he knew that they weren’t in New York anymore and that Steve hadn’t managed to follow him. He sobbed and cried for his father and Steve until he was slapped in the face and told to shut up while the kidnappers called Howard and made negotiations.

 

“DADDY!!!” he screamed as the cellphone was held up to his ear.

 

“ _Don’t worry, baby, we’re coming, we’re coming. Hang in there—,_ “ he heard his father croon over the receiver then the cellphone was jerked away despite Tony protesting with another scream.

 

“You heard him. He’s alive. But he won’t be for long if you don’t hurry up,” the kidnapper growled menacingly. “You have your instructions, Stark. I suggest you start working on them or else you’ll be receiving your boy back piece by piece.”

 

Tony sobbed and sobbed and whimpered for his father until he could produce no more tears and his voice had long gone. Only then did any commotion happen.

 

He heard a large ‘bang’ that was most likely a door being kicked open. A hand grabbed him by the hair, extracting a cry or pain, and a gun was pressed to his cheek.

 

“It’s Captain America!” another kidnapper cried just before he slammed the door shut.

 

“STEEEEEEEEEEVE!!!” Tony screamed as loudly as he could before he was silenced with a painful jerk of his hair and a harder press of the gun.

 

“Shut it, you little twerp!” the kidnapper hissed before Tony heard the door burst open. The gun dug harder into his cheek. “Take one step, Captain. One Step! And this little shit gets it.” Steve growled threateningly but did not seem to make any move. Suddenly, Tony heard a gunshot and screamed, but then the grip in his hair loosened and the gun fell away. A grunt of pain resounded from beside him and he heard a body crumple onto the floor.

 

Hands were suddenly on him and he struggled to get away until the blindfold was pushed off his eyes and he was looking up into Steve’s face. He cried out and wrapped both hands around Steve’s waist, holding on for dear life while Steve murmured “it’s okay” “we’re here” “I’m sorry” over and over again and rocked him back and forth. Around them there was a flurry of movement and voices and lights and Tony felt him being pried off of Steve. He struggled once more and cried out until he realized it was his father.

 

“Daddy,” he sobbed, holding on for dear life.

 

VII.

 

Tony pushed the front door shut behind him as he entered the silent house.

 

When he came home, Jarvis usually greeted him, or his fathers did. This time though, he wasn’t expected to return until the day after, but he decided to leave for the holidays a day early because he hadn’t been home in several months, so there was no welcoming committee for him.

 

“Jarv!” he called out as he slung his backpack onto a chair in the foyer. He hadn’t made it two rooms in when Jarvis entered from the dining room.

 

“Master Anthony!” he exclaimed in surprise. “Why on Earth are you already here?” Tony grinned at him sheepishly.

 

“I missed coming home,” he answered. “So where are dad and Steve?” Jarvis’s frown was a familiar one that had Tony laughing loudly. He waved away his question and said, “Never mind. I think I know. Thank you, Jarv.” Jarvis smiled and bowed minutely.

 

“You’re most welcome,” he said and returned the way he came, presumably to start cooking a feast to celebrate Tony’s return. Tony grinned and made his way to his father’s workshop. His father wouldn’t be there, of course; he would be too busy with Steve in their bedroom if Jarvis’s frown was anything to go by. But Tony had missed tinkering with his own stuff that was set up in one area of the workshop and so he resolved to await his fathers there.

 

The workshop was dark, but automatic lights flooded the room when Tony stepped in. He circled his father’s projects, caressing them reverently, as he made his way to his own workstation to work on his newest project: creating an AI. It was ambitious, yes, but Tony was the most brilliant engineering student of his age and, debatably, ever. If there was anyone who could do it, he was it.

 

He paused, though, when he saw his father’s laptop glowing with life. He stepped closer to see what his father was working on and found that he had linked into the security camera feed in their bedroom. Reeling back, he realized that the security camera was angled perfectly enough to allow Tony to see his fathers getting it on on the bed.

 

“Holy shit, dad!” he gaped softly, intending to scrub his eyes out with bleach as soon as he could tear them away from the screen.

 

Steve had Howard beneath him, both the CEO’s wrists pinned above his head with one of Steve’s hands. The captain’s other hand was beneath him, out of Tony’s visual, but the teenager could clearly visualize his fingers thrusting in and out of his father, if Howard’s twisting and writhing were anything to go by. Steve was mouthing at Howard’s neck, which was arched and bared, before pulling away completely.

 

He reached over to the nightstand and resettled between Howard’s spread legs with a bottle of lube in his possession. Howard had yet to pull his hands down from above his head, but was watching Steve carefully while the other man coated his unsurprisingly massive cock with the slippery substance. They exchanged words that Tony couldn’t hear and so his only clue was Howard’s body language when Steve, suddenly and quickly, thrust into Howard all the way to the hilt.

 

Tony imagined that he could practically _hear_ the scream all the way from his father’s room, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from how Howard arched beneath Steve. The soldier had stopped moving after that first thrust, instead kissing and caressing Howard’s neck and chest until Tony could see Howard’s lips move. Only then did Steve pull out slowly all the way before thrusting back in. He started a slow rhythm that steadily grew faster as Howard’s reactions picked up.

 

It didn’t take long until Steve was clutching at Howard’s waist, completely perpendicular to his lover, slamming into him at what must have been a bruisingly fast pace. Howard scrabbled for purchase onto the pillow beneath his head, writhing and arching with each thrust. When Steve tore one hand away from his lover’s hips to grasp at his erection, Howard suddenly came spectacularly onto his stomach and chest. It seemed that Steve followed not a moment after, his head tossed back and his mouth parted in an expression of pure ecstasy.

 

It was only then that Tony realized he had yet to attempt to tear his eyes away.

 

And that he had come in his pants.

 

VIII.

 

Tony knew he wasn’t normal.

 

For one thing, normal eighteen year olds weren’t in their senior years at MIT, taking up electrical engineering and computer science at the same time, schooling some of their own professors in their own subjects and working on various technological projects commissioned by the school itself such as robots they themselves designed and built and donated to the school for the purposes of demonstrations to other students.

 

For another thing, normal eighteen year olds did not have a trust fund larger than the GDP of the entire European Union and a monthly allowance that dwarfed the salary of the president of the USA.

 

But mostly, normal eighteen year olds—or rather, normal _human beings_ for that matter weren’t in love with the people who raised them.

 

And yet Tony once again managed to not only defy, but spit upon the normal standards of society every time he logged onto his laptop, which he had secretly managed to link to the security system at home, overrode the system that Howard designed and assumed to be impenetrable, activated the camera (that was usually disabled for rather obvious reasons) in his fathers’ bedroom and jerked off to his fathers fucking in bed before finishing himself off with half a bottle of hard liquor.

 

He had already been more than half drunk by the time he had logged onto his computer and had just finished off the bottle of tequila while Steve finished off his father. He chucked his empty bottle in the general direction of the trashcan, his buzzed brain not registering that it could have hit any number of hard items and smashed into a million pieces. Thankfully, it hit the carpet and was saved from any smashing.

 

He sank back against his pillows and held his cock in one hand, conjuring up a mixture of memory and imagination where Steve was fucking his father into the bed and Howard had Tony’s cock in his mouth. His hand moved faster in time with his father’s sucks and he slipped two fingers into his mouth. Steve was watching him, eyes half-lidded in desire and, _god_ , did Tony love how he looked when he did that. He slipped his fingers into himself; they weren’t slick enough and they burned, but he imagined Steve’s cock would burn hotter and wasn’t _that_ an amazing thought.

 

He stroked himself faster and fucked his ass harder and Steve was murmuring and whispering and his father was moaning and when Steve said, “come for us, baby,” he did and did and did.

 

And then he got up and cleaned himself off and righted his clothes and went to look for another bottle of liquor.

 

\-------

 

Steve looked up from the book he was reading as Howard entered the study, his tablet held in hand and his face ashen, and found his eyebrows rising at his lover’s unusual expression.

 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, setting his book aside and seating himself properly for what looked to be a serious discussion. Howard shut the door firmly behind him and sat down beside Steve, setting the tablet down on the coffee table before the sofa.

 

“I was inputting an update for the security system today and found an extra line of code mixed in with my own,” he started, frowning thoughtfully. “The code allowed the user to access the security system from a remote location, activate and deactivate the cameras in the house and duplicate recorded images.”

 

“In _your_ security system? How is that possible?” Steve was honestly surprised and a little bit alarmed. Howard designed security systems for the Pentagon and the White House; the one in his own home was one of the, if not _the_ best security system on the market.

 

“It’s not the how that bothers me,” Howard said, still staring at the blank tablet. “It’s the _who_ and the _why_.”

 

“Who—“

 

“Tony,” Howard cut in before Steve could finish the question. Steve pressed his lips together, no further explanations necessary; Tony’s genius was unquestionable. Steve often thought he could give his father a run for his money; a thought that was often verified by both big and small things the teenager did. He waited for Howard to offer the information for the next question. Howard breathed in deeply and switched the tablet on. “These were the duplicates…” Steve’s eyes widened and he pressed a hand to his mouth.

 

He found himself staring at a video of him and Howard fucking in their bedroom.

 

“Almost all of them are of the same theme,” Howard explained further. “Going as far back as two years ago.”

 

“Howard…” Steve trailed off; he couldn’t voice his thoughts. Howard shut his eyes and breathed in deeply again.

 

\-------

 

Howard went through the duplicated files one by one, careful not to skip over any detail. He didn’t have to, certainly. He knew each and every one intimately after all, and watching the video feeds was not a new experience; he and Steve did so quite often when the mood dictated.

 

This time, though, he couldn’t help but visualize himself in his son’s place, to see what Tony saw, to imagine how he felt… what he did…

 

He slammed the laptop closed with a loud bang, wincing when he thought he may just have damaged it, and threw himself back against the backrest of his chair, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes.

 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” he hissed, pressing into his eyes harder, and when he found that that failed to erase the images of his son jacking off to the videos, started scrubbing them hard until he could only see stars. “Fuck,” he said once more and buried his head onto his elbow on the desk.

 

He and Steve were undoubtedly adventurous in bed, Howard’s personal policy being to try everything once. This one, though, he was sure took the cake.

 

It never occurred to him before now to think about Tony in any way other than familial, but three days after he found the code, he found that he couldn’t discard the thoughts that were evoked by the discovery. He could now imagine, with certain clarity, how Tony would hold his own cock as he watched Steve kiss him onscreen, how he would push his fingers into himself when Howard would push into Steve, how Tony would suck on some toy while watching him suck Steve off.

 

Howard groaned again and lifted his head long enough to take a swig of his whiskey.

 

He was a vain man; that much he could admit. He liked the way he looked and made sure to take care of it so that everyone else saw it too. Tony had the best of his looks and the best of Maria’s, and Howard had long since been proud of that. Now, that pride had shifted (and he would admit this only to himself, and possibly Steve) into something much more… disgusting… had shifted into… into _want_ : the want to see his beautiful son moan and writhe beneath him as he pounded into him, to see his son’s mouth stretched around Steve’s cock, to feel his son’s plush, red lips against his own, to taste him—his mouth, his cock, his ass, his come—to _take_ him and watch him being taken.

 

He pressed a hand to his mouth to keep down the bile that threatened to rise and pressed the heel of his other hand against his cock.

 

He sobbed softly, once and silenced himself with an entire tumbler of whiskey which he then violently threw against the wall. The laptop would have followed soon after but it was plucked from his hands and set aside. Howard didn’t have to turn to see Steve standing behind him. Instead, he leaned into the embrace around his waist and dropped his head back against the shoulder behind him.

 

Steve slid one hand over Howard’s belly and beneath his work jeans, caressing what he could reach for a moment before unbuttoning it and sliding open the zipper. Howard made a soft noise of protest but Steve ignored him and cupped him through his briefs, encouraging out a small cry. He stroked him and whispered nonsensical things in his ear until Howard’s one sob became two and then three until he couldn’t hold back and Steve jerked him off and whispered how it was okay and how he was right here. Then Howard came and he sagged against Steve who quite easily picked him up and sat him on his lap so that they were facing each other.

 

“You know what the worst part is?” he asked softly, his face pressed into Steve’s neck so that his words were muffled. “The worst part,” he continued without waiting for Steve’s response, “is that I may be misinterpreting it, that he could be doing this for blackmail, but that I choose to interpret it this way because secretly, I’m _hoping_ this is the reason why.” Steve stroked his back and whispered more nonsense in his ear. Howard’s grip tightened around him. “I’m fucking _sick_ , Steve… So fucking sick to want him…”

 

“Then that would make me sick as well, wouldn’t it?” Steve murmured. Howard didn’t look up but clutched at Steve’s clothes tightly. “Because I want him, too. Because he’s damn gorgeous and intelligent and charming and people would have to be blind, deaf and mute not to want him.”

 

“Not people who raised him. Not his fathers.”

 

“We’re only human, Howard. If this is a mistake, it’s one I’m certainly not sorry to make.” Howard couldn’t believe how calm Steve’s voice sounded. Then again Tony wasn’t his son, not really anyway—

 

Howard stopped the line of thought because he was being supremely uncharitable to the one person who meant more to him than life itself. Tony may not have been Steve’s son biologically, but he was Steve’s in every other way that counted.

 

“I think the three of us need to talk,” Steve suggested.

 

\-------

 

Tony knew he was in deep shit as soon as he received the “Come home. We need to talk” message from Steve. He knew exactly _what_ they were going to talk about and how much muck he was in, but not so much how he was going to look his fathers in the eye.

 

He let Rhodey know that he was going home and booked the first flight back to New York. Jarvis greeted him at the front door of the mansion.

 

“Where are they?” he asked.

 

“The study, Master Anthony,” Jarvis answered promptly, turning to escort Tony there. He waved the older man away though—there was no need to get anyone else involved—and spent the walk from the foyer to the study thinking about how he was going to explain himself. In the end, there really was none and he could only wait to hear what Steve and his father had to say. He knocked hesitantly on the door and let himself in, noting that he caught the pair in the middle of a quiet discussion. He sat himself down on one of the sofas and watched Howard lower himself into the one opposite him. Steve sat somewhere between the pair of them, which made Tony insanely grateful because it meant that they weren’t shipping him off to some institution just yet.

 

“You hacked into the security mainframe,” Howard started without preamble. Tony nodded hesitantly. “We want to know why.” The teenager turned to Steve for help, but the blond looked just as determined to get the information as Howard did.

 

“I—“ he stumbled, searching for a plausible excuse. “I wanted to be able to see you to assure myself that you’re safe while I’m at school.” _Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid excuse. They’ll see through that in a second_ , he mentally berated himself, clenching his fists outwardly. Howard made a small noise at the back of his throat.

 

“And so hacking for the access to the security cameras in our bedroom and duplicating _records_ of certain _events_ was the best way to assure yourself that we’re safe?” he asked with undisguised incredulity. Tony winced and dropped his gaze. “Tell us the truth, Tony. I want to know _why_ you’ve been copying and storing videos of your father and I having sex with each other. What _possible_ purpose could it serve you?” Howard’s voice was rising fast. “Blackmail? Did you want a bigger allowance? A bigger trust fund? How about Stark Industries?”

 

“Howard…” Steve warned, but Howard went on without pause.

 

“Or did you want to expose us to the media, Tony? To embarrass us? Destroy us? _Tell us_ , Tony.” Tony clenched his fists harder, shutting his eyes to stem the oncoming flow of tears of shame. “Tell us!”

 

“Because!” Tony finally screamed, standing up and pinning his father to the sofa with a glare. “Because I enjoy watching you fuck, dad! Because I get off on it! Because when you fuck, I’m watching you from my room, jerking myself off! And sometimes—“ he choked, but continued on with determination. “Sometimes, I imagine myself joining you!” he yelled. A pause. “Happy?!” He didn’t wait for a response to his question and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

 

Steve released his grip of the chair when the ‘bang’ of the door pulled him out of his astonishment, only noticing vaguely how his grip managed to splinter the wood of the armrests. He turned to look at Howard, whose eyes were widened in surprise. Howard, too, turned to Steve before sighing loudly and burying his face into his hands. He let out a derisive chuckle.

 

“I was wishing he’d say yes to blackmail, to tell you the truth.” Steve got up and relocated to the spot beside Howard, wrapping his arms around the scientist.

 

“So what are we going to do?” Howard let out a laugh that wasn’t particularly humorous.

 

“What _are_ we going to do? Jesus Christ! Our son just confirmed that he wants to fucking _join us_! In bed!” He buried his face in Steve’s neck. “Oh, God, he wanted to _join_ us, Steve,” he whispered, and then even more quietly, “He wants to join us, and I want to fucking _let_ him.” Steve tilted his chin up to look into the troubled brown eyes, and Howard met his gaze calmly. “No,” he clarified. “That does not mean I will have him in our bed. He is our _son_. Do you know how fucking messed up that would be? For even just _thinking_ about it? I’m pretty sure it’s illegal in most countries. And it’s our _son_!”

 

“Well, right now, our son is in his room, feeling like shit about himself and probably packing for good, if I know him, which I do,” Steve pointed out. “The least we could do is to make sure he feels alright.”

 

“But what are we going to do about… about _this_?! It’s the proverbial fucking elephant! I don’t want an elephant in the room every time I have to talk to him! How the hell are we even going to be in the same room with him, knowing what he wants?”

 

“What _we_ want, you mean,” Steve corrected gently.

 

“I said no, Steve,” Howard growled. “We are _not_ going there.” He pulled himself away from Steve and started pacing. “It’s wrong. It’s fucking wrong and it’s criminal! For fuck’s sake, Steve!” The blond grasped Howard’s wrist and pulled him into an embrace for a long moment until the tension in his shoulders died down. “Do you know how sick that would be?”

 

“There are worse things in the world than sex between three consenting adults, Howard. Surely you, of all people, should know that.”

 

“That was a _war_ , Steve. We killed because we had to.”

 

“There is no context in the _world_ that could make killing any less horrible than it really is,” Steve said.

 

“But this… This is…” Howard choked at the word.

 

“This is something you want, something I want and something he wants and no one else has to ever know about it.”

 

“It’s _wrong_.”

 

“By whose standard?”

 

“By _everyone in the whole goddamned fucking world_!” Steve tightened his grip around Howard as the smaller man begun to struggle against the embrace.

 

“And when have you ever given a damn about what anybody else says, me, Tony and Jarvis aside?” Howard fought to sit up, but Steve didn’t relent. “Look, let’s do it this way. Let’s go up to him and finish talking about this and then… then well see where this goes, okay? Let me handle it, if you can’t. I’ll handle it, but you have to be there.” Howard stopped struggling and sighed.

 

“Okay… Okay. Let’s… talk,” he agreed.

 

\-------

 

They managed to intercept Tony just as he pulled open the door of his bedroom.

 

True to Steve’s predictions, he had a large duffel bag clutched in one hand and his cellphone held up to his ear in the other. Steve plucked the cellphone out of Tony’s hand, took a quick glance at the caller ID and said, “Hey, James. Tony will call you back in a while” before shutting the phone off and setting it down on the closest table. He then ushered Tony back into the room and set the bag aside. Howard followed inside, shutting and locking the door behind him and moving to sit down on the sofa a few feet away.

 

Tony fidgeted terribly, trying to shy away from Steve’s grip on his shoulder, but the taller man didn’t allow him to.

 

“We didn’t manage to talk about this properly,” Steve started. “I think we should, though.”

 

“What’s to talk about?” Tony asked snidely. “Which institution would be best for mentally ill teenagers? I’d say St. Francis: exclusive, expensive and discreet. Yes, I’ve done my homework.”

 

“We aren’t sending you away, baby,” Steve managed to sigh exasperatedly and reassuringly at the same time; it was a talent borne from living with Howard and Tony for almost two decades. “Yes, this isn’t—“

 

“ _Normal_?”

 

“…expected,” Steve frowned at him. Tony scoffed. “But I’m sure between the three of us, we’ll be able to help you out of this… phase.” The teenager looked affronted at that; his eyes widened in incredulity and he moved as far back as Steve’s hand allowed him. Steve held his gaze for a moment when Tony’s demeanor suddenly and immediately did a complete 180. He dropped his eyelids to look at Steve through his eyelashes, a clichéd seduction move that Steve had only ever seen Howard, and now Tony, pull off.

 

“Steve,” Tony began in his most sultry voice, stepping closer and tracing a finger down Steve’s chest. Steve stiffened. “Do you know what I do whenever I watch those videos of you?” he asked in a voice that he really shouldn’t know how to use until he was at least 30. “I turn up the volume to hear how you make dad moan and the sounds you make. Then I take off my clothes very slowly as if you were right there in the room, watching me, and kneel on the bed and fuck myself with my fingers… I can take three dry, easy, did you know that?” Tony didn’t miss the small sound Howard made from the couch. “But I have small fingers. Three of yours would spread me so wide that dad could shove his cock in me right after so easily.” Steve’s breath visibly caught in his throat and Tony pressed his lips to the flesh quickly. “While I fuck myself, in which I imagine it’s dad in me, I jerk myself off with my other hand and imagine you in my mouth, fucking my face.” He could feel Steve’s fingers tighten, and he internally grinned smugly. “And then I come all over my hand and I lick it off, just so I can pretend it’s _your_ come I’m tasting.” He gave Steve’s neck a quick lick then quickly stepped back and out of reach. His demeanor did another 180, and he was back to glaring at Steve who had an… interesting look on his face.

 

Then Steve stepped forward, cupped Tony’s cheek and kissed him full on the mouth.

 

Tony let out a small sound of surprise, then a wanton moan and tilted his head just _so_ so that he could receive the full benefit of the kiss. It was sweet, but demanding and Tony completely surrendered to Steve, melting against him and parting his lips when the older man’s tongue demanded entrance. He pressed himself closer against the soldier, clutching onto the broad shoulders to keep from collapsing into a puddle at Steve’s feet, and was rewarded by Steve wrapping an arm around his waist and a hand around the back of his neck.

 

When they pulled away, Howard drawled, “Steve, this is the complete opposite of ‘talking’ and ‘no.’” There was a slight tremor in his voice that betrayed his words, so Steve ignored him and pushed Tony backwards onto the bed. There, they shared another kiss and another and another until Howard was treated with a view of a full-blown make-out session between the two most important people in his life.

 

Tony pushed against Steve’s shoulder until the soldier gave and they rolled over without breaking their kiss and Tony was on top. He fumbled between them until he could tug Steve’s jeans open and pull his cock out, only then did he pull away. He slithered off of Steve’s lap to kneel the floor while the blond sat up to watch him. When Tony took him into his mouth, it took all of his willpower not to grasp the black hair and thrust all the way in. His hips still made abortive, jerky motions though because Tony’s mouth was fucking _incredible_ and Steve was having a hard time holding himself back.

 

“ _God_ ,” he hissed, carding his hands through his godson’s hair. Tony gave him a slow suck and drew back to swirl his tongue over the head then took him back in all the way until Steve could feel the back of Tony’s throat on the tip of his cock. He moaned quite loudly and when Tony repeated the actions, he fisted a clump of his hair and abruptly pulled Tony off. The younger man’s eyes widened in surprise and fear, but Steve kissed him quickly. “Stay here,” he murmured and walked over to Howard, who was forgotten and frozen in his seat. Steve pulled his lover up to him to kiss him quite thoroughly while he divested him of his pants.

 

“Steve,” Howard protested half heartedly, squirming away, but Steve kept a firm grip on his arm and didn’t pause until both Howard’s pants and boxers slid to the floor. Howard rarely ever blushed, and when he did, Steve couldn’t get enough of it. He kissed him again then sat down behind him before kicking Howard’s legs open and wetting a pair of his fingers.

 

Still kneeling beside the bed, Tony watched with rapt attention when Steve pushed both slicked fingers into Howard who moaned and grasped at Steve’s hand on his hip, unable to anchor himself to anything else. Steve slid his fingers in and out, slowly, scissoring them apart, and only when he deemed Howard sufficiently stretched, if not as well-lubricated, pulled Howard down to lean his back against his chest. He grasped the back of Howard’s thighs and pulled them up and apart as leverage for Steve to lower his lover onto his cock. It was not lost on Howard that this exposed him so completely to Tony’s eyes. He rolled his head back against Steve’s shoulder and closed his eyes, focusing on the familiar burn of Steve in him rather than the burn of Tony’s eyes.

 

Steve lowered him until he was fully seated on his cock and then stopped. Howard refused to whine petulantly and managed only because he heard Steve say, “Come here, baby.” His eyes snapped open and his head up as he watched Tony crawl over, on his hands and knees to settle between Steve’s legs, and dear fucking god, why was he being tried like this? “Tony gives great head, Howard. Wouldn’t you like to try?” Steve whispered. Howard shivered at the tone of voice. Steve was very rarely seductive and rarely ever intelligibly vocal in bed; this was above and well beyond the norm for them. He hissed in assent, and his head dropped back down against Steve’s shoulder.

 

He gave a sharp cry when he felt a pair of lips wrap around the head of his cock and he desperately, desperately grasped at the image of another man to put between Steve’s knees. It was sick, he was sick, all three of them were sick, but, _oh_ , Steve was moving in him and dual waves of pleasure repeatedly washed over him. He lost all semblance of thought and control after that. One of his hands sought to grasp at Steve’s hair while the other at Tony’s and he moaned and whimpered and cried out at each of the sensations around him and, _dear god_ , Tony’s mouth was amazing.

 

His thighs quivered as Steve thrust into him and then his cock was in Tony’s throat and Steve was ramming at his prostrate. When Tony pulled away completely, Howard whined then attempted to protest, but the teenager licked beneath his balls, at the skin stretched around Steve’s cock and he was coming with the force of a freight train.

 

He hadn’t yet recovered when he felt a tongue lapping at his cock then a pair of lips that tasted badly of semen was on his and they were sharing a sloppy, filthy kiss, peppered with whimpers and groans. Howard felt someone slide out from beneath him, but he couldn’t be assed to remember who it was as he clutched at the hair of the person kissing him, dragging him onto his lap and lapping at all the traces of himself his tongue could reach.

 

Howard pulled away when he could finally remember his name to see Steve lounging on the other end of the couch, cock still hanging out and a pleased grin on his lips.

 

“God,” he said. “Do you know how fucking _hot_ you two look like that?” It was rhetorical, so Howard ignored it and looked to see Tony in his lap with a grin matching Steve’s. He pressed his head to Tony’s shoulder and let out a long sigh then counted to twenty in French, then German, then Spanish. When he looked back up at his son, there was a small frown on the teenager’s face.

 

“Dad?” he asked softly, brushing a hand over Howard’s cheek.

 

The elephant was gone, but there was something bigger left in its place. Howard was too tired to think about what it was just yet and was too high on euphoria to decide whether it was good or bad.

 

In the meantime, there was really no other choice but to lick the come off the corners of Tony’s lips and return the favor to him.

 

IX.

 

Steve didn’t think that the novelty of watching Tony ride his father’s cock would ever die down, but at the very least it had metamorphosed from being ‘sick and so completely wrong’ to ‘incredibly arousing’ particularly because Tony was a bit of a slut and was very creative. Right now, he was atop Howard, fucking himself on his father’s cock with his hands tied behind his back and Steve’s cock in his mouth, a sheen of sweat covering his skin from the effort it took to lift himself up and down with only his thighs.

 

Howard reached forward with both his hands to pinch both of Tony’s nipples at the same time and Tony suddenly cried out and came spectacularly all over Howard’s stomach and chest. The older Stark could see him suddenly wilting under the force of his orgasm and he slapped his thigh in warning.

 

“Finish, Tony,” he reminded and Tony moaned at the command, his vigor picking up. Steve grasped at Tony’s hair and pulled him away only to push him down against Howard so that they could kiss. He then slipped his cock between the joined lips and moaned as father and son blew him. He watched them do so, lips and tongues sliding against each other and when Howard took him into his mouth and *sucked,* Steve came explosively into his mouth. Tony wasted no time in kissing Howard, Steve’s come shared between them. It seemed that that though was the tipping point for Howard who groaned quite loudly as he came in Tony.

 

They settled against each other, lips joined in a three-way kiss until Tony was the first to pull away and settle against Steve’s other side, curling up against the bigger man. Steve pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead and another on Howard’s lips before shutting his eyes and reveling in his pleasure.

 

“We should go on a date,” Howard eventually said when breaths were caught. Tony lifted his head up to look at him.

 

“A date?” he asked. “Like the three of us?” He was beaming and that made Steve insanely happy. Howard, too, lifted his head to meet Tony in a kiss over Steve’s chest. The blond groaned happily at the sight.

 

“Have I mentioned how fucking hot it is to watch you kiss?” he asked. He had, several times, in fact. Tony’s mischievous smirk was unseen. He ran his hand through his father’s hair and tilted his head so that Steve could see their tongues stroking each other. Howard stroked Tony’s cheek and cupped his chin while thrusting his tongue in the teenager’s mouth. Steve groaned again and the pair above him were delighted that he was getting hard once more. “You two are insatiable,” he said. “I swear. It’s probably good that neither of you were injected with the serum, otherwise, we’d probably never leave this room.” To that, Howard chuckled, kissed him then patted his thigh before standing up.

 

“Come on, then, time to get up,” he said. “I think we can squeeze in a quick shower before we go out.”

 

“And by ‘shower,’ you mean ‘sex’ right?” Steve asked with a smile. Tony was already half-way off the bed and following Howard into the master bathroom.

 

X.

 

Howard was on the verge of retiring as CEO of Stark Industries and handing the reins over to Tony. At 33 years of age, he was already almost more promising than Howard himself had been at that age (though Tony did have the added benefit of being closely mentored by Howard whereas Walter didn’t even consider handing SI over to Howard at any age of less than 40). Most of SI’s most successful weapons in the recent years had been conceptualized, developed and marketed by Tony himself, earning them revenues beyond that SI has ever seen for any one weapon.

 

Take the Jericho missiles, for example. The military had demanded that Tony give a presentation to the US generals in Afghanistan before they decide on making the purchase, but Howard knew they already had the paperwork and the money for a couple of thousand sets ready, and Tony’s presentation was to be a demonstration and a tutorial more than anything.

 

He accompanied Tony to Afghanistan because he planned to tell Tony of his plans over dinner. Steve was away for a few days on military business and Howard was doing his very best to make their other lover regret not joining them on the trip.

 

He sliced into his steak neatly and observed Tony gesticulating wildly with his new plans for an even better weapon. Tony’s food was hardly touched, and it pleased Howard to see his son so enthusiastic, but Steve had a _thing_ against either (or both) of the Starks not eating, so he rapped Tony across his knuckles and gestured to his food. Tony only grinned ( _brat_ ), but tucked in anyway.

 

“We’re heading home as soon as we get the contract signed for the missiles. I’m not expecting it to drag on for too long, so be ready to leave tomorrow evening,” Howard said. He was the epitome of calm and collect as he said this; any onlooker would see him having a serious conversation over dinner with his son/protégé, but this was borne only from years of having covert dates with said son. Beneath the table though, Tony brushed his foot against Howard’s leg, sending the older man a naughty smile. Howard merely quirked a brow and delivered the last slice of steak to his lips, chewing thoughtfully as Tony scarfed down the rest of his meal.

 

XI.

 

People asked him, often and repeatedly, how he was doing, and all Steve wanted to do was to scream at them “How the fuck do you think I’m doing?!” But he didn’t because aside from the irrelevant fact that that wasn’t who he was, doing so would take away from the concentration and mindset he needed to find them. More importantly, it would give voice to that niggling little feeling in him that he wanted to rip out of his chest and squash under his boot (and if he happened to tear out his heart at the same time, he found that he didn’t mind all too much).

 

It had been three months since he’d last seen the both of them, tangled up and writhing against each other through the screen of his laptop. He’d promised them, through heavy pants and moans of his own, that he’d strip them down and take them apart cell by cell as soon as they got back from Afghanistan. He swore they weren’t leaving their bedroom until every single one of their thoughts was reduced to a mere repetition of Steve’s name.

 

He missed them— _God_ , how he missed them—and he wanted to only curl up and cry out the despair and grief he felt. He didn’t, though, because the only thought that he allowed to run through his mind right now was to find them (and if he couldn’t find them, then at the very least, he would find their bodies).

 

“Captain Rogers?” one of the corporals on the base called. He had long since been out of the army, but he’d taken his mantle back up once he found out he was getting nowhere as a civilian. Steve turned to him in question. “You’re needed in the command tent.” It was a telling statement meaning they’ve found something and needed him to verify it, so he didn’t waste time and hurried out of his own tent. Rhodey, now a lieutenant colonel and a few ranks above Steve (but that didn’t really matter when it came down to anything really), was there standing beside the officer in charge of the operation, both of them were huddled closely around several monitors.

 

“What is it?” Steve asked, drawing their gazes to him. Rhodey pointed to one of the screens where, even at a distance, Steve could see the brown sand of the desert littered with dark gray metal parts of what was sure to me a tech item. Moving closer to the screen, he could recognize what looked to be a metal arm, two legs and a head, among the other mangled things. It made his heart seize in his chest.

 

Tony.

 

“We’re heading out in five minutes to check the site, Captain,” Rhodey told him. He didn’t bother asking whether or not Steve wanted to come (only a fool would have). Steve nodded and took a moment only to grab his shield from his tent before jogging to the chopper that took them through the desert, low enough that they could see the people, animals and things coming and going.

 

They were a few miles away from the site of the wreckage and around them was nothing but sand dunes and the occasional patch of grass. Steve wondered if there was any way for the helicopter to move any faster because a big a clue as that was bound to go only positively for the search. Steve gripped the handles tighter and set his mouth.

 

Suddenly, _there_ , in the distance—it was unrecognizable at first—he could see a speck of black that was too far from the site for it to be a stray piece of metal. Steve’s heart thudded in his chest as he pointed and shouted at the chopper’s pilot over the noise, “There! There!” Both he and Rhodey were on their feet and staring out of the windshield as they approached the speck and that speck approached them. When they were near enough that Steve could see that it was, in fact, human, he bolted to the open door and, without hesitation, threw himself out of the aircraft.

 

He fell thirty feet to the sand with a sudden and jarring stop, but recovered quickly enough that he was running towards the figure with all his inhuman speed (leaving the chopper far behind). Said figure stopped moving, having caught sight of Steve apparently, and fell to his knees where Steve caught him in a tight, crushing embrace only minutes later.

 

It was the first time Steve allowed himself to cry since they were taken, and cry he did into Tony’s hair. But that was fine because Tony was crying too. They held each other tightly for minutes, for hours maybe (the chopper having settled a fair distance away and its occupants giving them space) and then Steve pulled back only very slightly so that he could look into Tony’s face. Even then, Tony resisted the motion.

 

“Shh… Shh… I’ve got you,” Steve murmured with a cracked, raw voice. He kissed his godson’s forehead and hugged him again.

 

“He’s… Steve, dad’s—” Tony struggled to say before he broke off with a choked, anguished sob that was only a precursor to hundreds of others just like it. Steve shut his eyes and held on to Tony tightly as his own sob that he had thought already died out escaped from his chest at Tony’s revelation.

 

He wanted to leave Tony with Rhodey and hunt down his lovers’ kidnappers. He wanted to look at each of their faces and tear the skin right off of their bones with his bare hands. He wanted to find Howard— _God_ —find Howard’s body and bring him home. He wanted to do so many things.

 

But he didn’t because Tony needed him right here, right now.

 

XII.

 

Steve Rogers was sixty when Howard Stark was kidnapped and killed in Afghanistan.

 

Tony stood in front of thousands of guests gathered for his funeral and millions more who were watching at home, vociferously telling them about the man who had left the world a legacy of modernization. Tony stood in front of Steve, silently telling him about the lover who had left a gaping hole in their hearts. And Tony stood in front of Howard who would never know what he said. And Steve…

 

Steve was broken.


End file.
